


A Myriad of Breakfast

by lionessvalenti



Category: Agents of Cracked
Genre: Breakfast, Food Kink, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Other, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you search for breakfast, porn does not come up. Well... that depends on your definition of porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Myriad of Breakfast

Michael had a very set routine when he got into the office. It was early morning (actually, it was one in the afternoon, but he hadn't even been awake for an hour, so it was _like_ early morning) and he sat down at his desk and pulled up the internet. He knew how to make the internet work.

He had email to read and maybe he had an article to write. He couldn't be sure. But instead of thinking about that, he searched for porn.

There was all the usual stuff, the things he'd come to expect: Girls sucking big, black cocks, guys coming into martini glasses, a chick fisting herself in the ass, and a girl shooting milk straight from a cow's udder onto her face. There were guys licking each other's assholes, girls eating sushi off each other, and a zombie eating the dick right off a dude.

Just a typical day on the internet.

Michael glanced down at his pants and frowned. He was a little hard, sure, but he really needed something to hold on to. His dick could get _so_ much bigger.

He studied his keyboard. Those little symbols meant something, didn't they? He poked one of them. Oh, it was a button.

Using the keyboard, he did another the search. Perhaps it was time to be a bit for specific. When the next page loaded, Michael sat back in his chair. That's right. Come to daddy.

The butter melted across the stack of pancakes, and the syrup cascaded off the sides. It was sticky and sweet, like he could lick it right off his fingers. He leaned forward and ran his tongue over the screen, but it just tasted like dust and lint.

Michael scrolled down and, oh Jesus, there were eggs baked into cups made out of ham. Omelets with salsa drizzled over them, with a dollop of sour cream artfully on top. He pulled down the zipper on his pants and reached inside. English muffin sandwiches stacked with scrambled eggs and bacon. He grasped his cock, letting his long fingers curl all the way around. Yogurt with granola and fruit. Oh, god, hash browns covered with ketchup. It was all so good, except for -- quiche. No. Fuck quiche. No one likes quiche.

He kept scrolling. Was that Nutella stuffed French toast? He could practically taste the chocolatey sweetness on his tongue. Apple popovers? Homemade sausages? He stroked faster, the pressure building. Banana walnut pancakes drenched in syrup, and cinnamon raisin bagels slathered in cream cheese. There was so much!

Michael's breath picked up. He couldn't turn back now, not that he ever would, he was so close. He swallowed and squeezed his dick hard. There was oatmeal with blueberries. Milk being splashed into a bowl of cold cereal. Eggs Benedict with Hollandaise. Sticky buns. The goddamn sticky buns.

"Waaaaaffles!" Michael cried as he came. He flailed wildly in his chair before flopping back, letting his arms and legs go limp. His dick was still hanging out of his pants.

Good morning, Michael thought with a smile. It was a good morning.


End file.
